


Yes, She Is In Fact Trying To Seduce You

by ruff_ethereal



Series: Awfully Awkward Artist, Flirty Nude Model [2]
Category: Descendants (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Sexual Situations, Broke Art Student! Mal, Explicit Language, F/F, Mild Language, Nude Model!Evie, Nude Modeling, Nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 13:57:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5668504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruff_ethereal/pseuds/ruff_ethereal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to "Like The Difference Between Powdered Chocolate Milk Drink To Actual Cacao Tablets And Full Cream Milk"</p><p>It's Wednesday, and Mal has a nude modeling/drawing session with Evie. Things get awkward very quickly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yes, She Is In Fact Trying To Seduce You

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: None of the advice in this story is to be taken seriously, and especially in place of actual facts and professional opinions. The author is merely using a very flimsy, non-professional take on things, and does not advise that any readers use the “treatments” described below, but that they do serious research if something hits a note with them.
> 
> God it has been so long. Sorry you all had to wait for Wednesday for like what, four months? But here it is.
> 
> Definitely not as good as that spontaneous stroke of genius as the first, in my opinion, but hopefully you folks will like it.

“Are you trying to get me to have sex with you, or are you still helping me get comfortable with seeing you naked?” Mal asked as Evie sat almost entirely naked on her thigh, nothing but a pair of cotton panties between her skin and hers.

Evie smiled. “Both, actually! Feel free to tell me to stop whenever you want to...” She purred as she reached for the edge of Mal's sweatshirt, her fingers hovering over them but not gripping just yet.

Mal wondered how exactly things had gone from a private nude modeling/drawing session to something straight out of a terrible porno (in the sense of realism).

It had probably started with the chocolate.

The idea had been a fleeting impulse while she was grocery shopping: it might have been good to stock up on some extra chocolate, in case Evie wanted some, or if the session dragged on for longer than they expected. Mal knew she couldn't serve anything she had for food at her home, both to be polite to Evie, and because her stores were specifically planned and necessary to tide her over until she could finally cash in on all the donations and tips on her Patreon at the end of the month.

It should have been easy: just grab more of her usual brand of milk chocolate bars, and pray nothing would happen that'd require her to dip into her emergency funds any more than she already had. Then she had the brief thought that maybe Evie wouldn't have been a fan of just regular old milk chocolate bars from the supermarket, she'd prefer something different, and suddenly, it was an urgent problem that consumed her very being.

So it was that she set about searching for chocolate Evie might like—a task that she had spent a great deal more time in than she really should have, part of it spent browsing the supermarket's chocolate and chocolate-containing candies, and the rest of it debating which one she should get exactly, given her budget, and what Evie might like.

She'd never really realized just how many chocolates and chocolate products there were available for your average consumer until that day. When she was still living with her mother, she'd never had to do any sort of shopping and was perfectly happy snatching whatever boxes of exotic treats her mother had carelessly left laying around in sight and reach; after she was (mostly) independent of her, she simply chose the one bar that had the best price/quality ratio given her perpetually limited budget, and stuck with that.

But now she was staring at not one, but two giant walls of chocolates and chocolate containing treats, stretching up high above her head and close to the lights up on the ceiling.

There were small chocolates, there were big chocolates; there were ones that just came as is, there were ones that were filled with fruits or nuts, there were others that were the fillings of wafer sticks or between two biscuits that may have also been made out of chocolate. There were ones with simple, colourful packaging, there were others that had incredibly intricate designs with clever use of metalic foils and cloth ribbons, there were some that were stored in artfully shaped cardboard boxes. And that was not even going into the huge number of brand names, companies that manufactured them, and of course, the prices that were clearly printed on the shelves they rested on.

And any one of them could have been the kind that Evie wanted, or none of them would have been it, or she would have liked any single one of those chocolates off the shelf and all this worrying would have been for nothing.

She wondered how in the world the retail companies ever expected someone to be able to come into this aisle without any specific item in mind, see this giant mess, and expect them to come out of it with even a single small purchase instead of throwing their arms up and leaving, grumbling to themselves that chocolate wasn't worth that much effort.

In fact, if the consequences of not having any chocolate to offer weren't so dire, Mal would have given up right there and then.

(The reasonable part of Mal's brain argued that Evie would probably have been perfectly with her regular brand of chocolate, wouldn't be that picky, and if she raised a stink just because she happened to get the wrong kind of chocolate without her giving any prior knowledge or notice, then she wouldn't be someone worth impressing, let alone be with.

But, like the time it asked why exactly the nerdy, most unpopular girl in school would have willingly gone about for years intentionally hiding the insanely hot porn star body she had underneath her “nerdy” attire; how the _entire_ school, the neighbourhood, and her friends were completely unaware of it; how she could suddenly gain a much needed boost of confidence and to seduce her archnemesis/tormentor, the most popular girl in school; and how exactly her equally geeky porn-star-in-hiding best friend, their equally hot teacher, and the also hot principle would coincidentally join in for a hot lesbian orgy, Mal ignored it.)

Eventually, the cost of even more precious time lost to indecision got too great, and she bought a box of Oreos.

Oreos were safe. Save for those who had nut allergies or lactose intolerance, pretty much everyone liked them, right? Or at the very least, they wouldn't say no if they were offered some.

Unless they had some sort of traumatic experience involving Oreos. Like a loved one choked to death on them. Or a beloved pet was run over by an Oreo delivery truck. Or they witnessed a freak accident in an Oreo factory.

But what were the chances of Evie having experienced any of those?

Mal decided not to think of them as she checked out.

So now here she was in her apartment, a box of Oreos laid out on the counter nearby, conveniently open and within easy reach of any visitors, while she was anxiously checking the wall clock nearby. The minutes ticked by ever so slowly, the hands taking forever to get to eight o'clock.

Thoughts raced through Mal's mind. Should she have scheduled for a later, more sane time? Nine AM, for example? Was eight too early? Would Evie even come?

Maybe she'd call at the last minute and say she had an emergency—her pet had become suddenly sick and needed to be rushed to the hospital, or a friend, or a family member, or a boyfriend/girlfriend/non-binary lover. (That last one would also conveniently, if painfully, be a definitive answer to the “Is she into me or just a flirty exhibitionist?” question.) Maybe Evie had suddenly become sick—there had to be consequences to posing naked for several hours, sitting, standing, laying, or artfully posed and almost perfectly still on all manner of surfaces and furniture that may not have been disinfected properly, or the room's temperature left much to be desired when you had your clothes off, or she caught something during an outdoor session or photoshoot.

Mal had to dismiss that line of thought as she began to seriously wonder if Evie had posed nude or was a model for any adult sites (paid or preferably free), if there was any content floating around in cyberspace under her name or a stage name, and most importantly, if she was strictly tasteful nudes, softcore, hardcore, or even participated in some of the more… interesting… kinks Mal had acquired while exploring the stranger parts of the net.

“ _Why am I even thinking about her like this?”_ Mal thought to herself.

Then her doorman buzzed to let her know that “Ms. Evie” was coming up, she knocked, Mal opened the door for her, and proceeded to stare for much longer than could be considered polite.

“ _Right,”_ Mal thought to herself, _“because she's stupidly hot.”_

Evie smiled, showing off pearly white, perfectly straight teeth that Mal was very sure would glow in the dark with their own light. “Hey Mal.” She said.

Mal felt her heart start to pound in her chest. “Hey Evie...” she said, keeping it short to reduce the risk of her blurting out something stupid that would have Evie turning right around and leaving before she even got in through her front door.

“Can I come in? Unless you want me to pose nude for you right out here...” Evie purred playfully.

Mal spent a significant, noticeable amount of time stopping herself from saying something incredibly, _outstandingly_ dumb involving Evie being naked and where she would be at the time. “No, come in,” she finally said as she stepped aside. “I've got a space set up and all ready for you.”

Which was true. What was _also_ true was that she had spent an embarrassing amount of last night getting it that way, from planning it out, moving her other furniture around and out to make space, moving other furniture in and around afterward, then repeating the process all over again until she finally tired herself and prayed for the best with the arrangement she had ended up with then.

Evie strolled in, taking in Mal's surroundings.

As far as the residences of lazy, woefully domestically incompetent, cash-time-and-motivation strapped college students went, her place was actually pretty nice, if still filthy, disorganized, and in desperate need of a small squad of maids armed with steamers, vacuums, and heavy-duty cleaning products.

Back when she and her mother had first visited the spacious apartment, it came fully furnished, had all utilities functioning and all advertised features, and not a single bit of damage, blemish, or unadvertised problem to its name. Its original market was also to yuppies, aristocrats, and professionals looking for a comfy abode with _only_ one bedroom complete with its own personal bath as large as most people's living room's, so everything in there was of the highest quality, of some of the most discriminating taste, and _far_ more expensive than a single semester at Mal's college plus books, miscellaneous fees, and costs of living sans rent.

Her mother had paid for it because it was a fair distance from Mal's college of choice, but a short stroll away from a much more prestigious institution that offered degrees for law, medicine, and political science, which also had kind the of neighbourhood, people, establishments, and events that you would expect from Ivy League Lite. But, as the months dragged by, Mal refused to abandon her dream of an art degree and a career as a professional artist, she adapted to the long commute, her mother somehow still agreed to pay for her tuition and her rent, and as a consequence, the humble slice of upper class bliss steadily deteriorated.

The rugs, the couches, and the curtains had suffered more than their fair share of stains and abuse, composed of, among other things, spilled pizza toppings and exotic takeout; paint and ink splatters, chalk dust, and other art materials; and natural accumulations of dirt and bacteria that she hoped wouldn't one day amalgamate, gain sentience, and decide to kick her out—or worse, offer to pay rent. (Her mother would have had a field day if that happened.)

The once pristine and cozy walls, counters, and tiles had faded from their former photo-shoot ready glory, now prime candidates for cleaning product commercials, showing how one could eliminate your burnt and stubborn stains, hard water spots, and occasional mold colony with just one spray and wipe!

She hadn't hawked any of the furniture for money yet—and never would as she was certain her mother was going to use that as artillery shells if things ever soured—but the chairs that were supposed to be sat on by finely dressed, well-maintained, and sometimes surgically-enhanced derrieres had old clothes and dirty laundry hanging over them, if they weren't being used to hold up boxes of old sketches, abandoned projects, or art supplies she might need for certain projects. And this wasn't even getting into what she'd filled or hastily shoved into the shelves and drawers with their ornately carved faces and frosted glass panels.

And since her mother wasn't about to pay for a cleaning service; Mal didn't have the money or the intention to do so herself or buy some heavy-duty cleaning supplies and go to war with the filth; and she rarely brought anyone over and those that she did never minded, her place had become a prime example in the argument that women could be just as disgusting, disorganized, and downright lazy as their male counterparts, if less obvious and widespread—though that might have been because Mal lived by herself and spent most of her time on her computer or her drawing table.

If Evie had a problem with the state of the apartment, though, she didn't complain.

And Mal certainly didn't complain that she seemed to be so focused at taking in her surroundings that she could take  _her_ in  with impunity .

She wore a n avy blue sweater that fit wonderfully over her shapely figure and most  _definitely_ accentuated the curve of her breasts.  Down below, l ight grey pants, also hugging her figure and giving Mal a fantastic view of the curve and shape of her finely-toned rear  and those  _legs_ short of Evie dropping said pants. And to complete the outfit, comfortable slip-on shoes in the same colour as her top.

And this wasn't even  getting into how Evie moved in them. She didn't know how it was possible to have such grace, fluidity, and an alluring sway with every step without high heels, nor did she really care to find out.

“Nice place!” Evie said as she spun back around to face her. “Wasn't what I was expecting when you said you were a broke art student, but I am _very_ pleasantly surprised.”

Mal quickly brought her eyes back up to the level of her face. “Yeah, sorry I didn't exactly mention it before; most people get seriously turned off and suspicious when people say their apartment's paid for by their mom.”

It wasn't something she wanted Evie to know, but it'd be something she'd find out eventually, so she may as well do so when the consequences were not nearly as humiliating and her mother had yet to enter the equation.

To her pleasant surprise, however, Evie nodded in understanding. “Tell me about it. I wish I didn't need my mother to pay so many of my bills, but this is really the best way for me to get independent of her any time soon.” She smiled. “Besides, it lets me take on jobs like this whenever the mood strikes me.

“And _speaking_ of my job... just because I'm a nude model doesn't mean I can't pose for you with my clothes still on.” She winked.

Mal blushed. _“Busted,” s_ he thought bitterly, though she had to take comfort in the fact that Evie didn't seem to mind—no, scratch that, she _rather_ liked it.

“You want to show me that space you mentioned, so I can get undressed and posed?” Evie asked with cool, professional calm—or perhaps intentional nonchalance for emphasis, it was hard to tell.

“Yes. No! I mean--” Mal stopped herself before she could dig herself in deeper.

Evie smiled, clearly still very amused by the effect she was having on her.

“What I mean is… let's go to my work area, and you pose for me for _reference”--_ Evie smirked for a brief moment _\--”_ but _not_ naked first.” Mal said. “I actually want to get some drawing done today.”

She paused. “There's a box of Oreos in it for you along with your payment. Well, I mean, I'm not _stopping_ you from getting any Oreos if you want to because I bought them for you in the first place, but...” she trailed off before awkwardly shutting her mouth.

Evie chuckled. “Lucky you that I love Oreos. You wouldn't happen to have any milk on you, would you?”

“Full cream, store brand.” Mal said as she lead the way to her work area. “Sorry, rent's as far as my mom will go.”

“It'll do just fine, trust me~” Evie hummed as she followed after her.

The box of Oreos stayed on the counter until later, after the drawing session. “How'd I get the chocolate stains out of my teeth?” Evie explained.

And while Mal could certainly think of a way, unfortunately, it wasn't the kind almost total strangers offered each other, and she was pretty sure it would be _far_ inferior to whatever Evie used—probably some uber-expensive toothpaste made by some cutting edge cosmetology team somewhere in Paris or a place equally exotic. She didn't even have any floss in her place, and Evie had to be flossing her teeth regularly to have teeth at that caliber of clean and shiny.

Mal sat down at her drawing table—the boring one she had bought herself, not the much more expensive and classy model with the light box her mother had gifted with about as much sarcasm and thinly-veiled derision as she could. That one could stay in the corner hidden behind some of her larger projects.

Meanwhile, Evie settled herself on one of the chaise lounges that had come with the apartment, just cleared of clothes and disinfected the night before.

“Any specific pose you want me in?” Evie asked as she settled on the luxurious cushions.

“Depends: what can I ask for?” Mal absently asked as she fixed her materials.

Evie chuckled. “Anything you'd like...~” She purred.

Mal dropped the pencil she was holding. It landed with a little thunk before it rolled to the bottom of her table. She sheepishly looked up at Evie, who was giving her a decidedly not-so-sheepish look.

“Just… something really tame to start with, please.” She mumbled as she picked it back up.

Mal didn't notice the red spreading on her cheeks, but Evie certainly did. She giggled before she put on about the most modest pose possible: sitting on the side of the chaise lounge, legs closed and tucked neatly beneath her, hands on her lap, body turned slightly at an angle while she looked straight at Mal and gave her a small but still radiant smile.

Mal felt the room suddenly get warmer. She swallowed the lump that formed in her throat, before she took a deep, calming breath. _“Easy there, tiger, she's just posing for you, not making interested eyes at you from across the room at a fancy party.”_ She thought to herself.

With that in mind, she began to draw.

Now that she had already met Evie, knew how how hot she was, and most importantly, was looking at her with her clothes _on,_ she found that her hands behaved and would actually do what they were told, obediently making all the lines, curves, and shapes they'd been doing for years now. And on a related note, she found that she could stop concentrating on the lines, curves, and shapes that made up Evie, to the detriment of her drawing of her.

She worked fast and loose; she wasn't sure what exactly Evie would be taking in exchange for the modeling session, but she wasn't putting herself in a position where she'd have to awkwardly negotiate an installment plan—she had enough debts and creditors as is.

With her whole form captured, a few choice details capturing her more striking features like her luxurious hair, her intelligent eyes, and those kissable red lips of hers, plus a little basic shading to give it some depth, Mal put her pencil down and declared her work, “Done.”

Evie came out of the pose she had been holding for a few minutes—one Mal had to note she had not broken even once, like a true professional. “Can I see?” She asked.

Eager to salvage her impresison of her artistic skill, Mal did and with a proud smile.

Evie looked quite impressed. “Very nice! It actually looks like a person this time!”

The smile disappeared, replaced by a scowl.

Evie laughed. “I'm joking; it looks fantastic, honest.”

Mal was back to smiling once more. “If you think that's good, you should see what I come up with when I get serious with the details.” She said as she put the drawing away for storage.

“How about we get me naked first?” Evie calmly countered.

What confidence she had disappeared. “I, uh… yeah, let's do that.”

Evie nodded. “Racier this time?”

She'd done a great job earlier, why not? Mal thought to herself. “Let's do it.”

This time, Evie spread herself out all over the chaise lounge, resting her head near the arm, her arms folded in front of her, body turned just so that Mal could see her fantastic curves, especially her hips. The smile this time was less friendly, more sly.

Mal slowly took in a breath, and released it. Though there were no warning bells yet, the control center in her mind was putting her levels of gayness on close observation.

This drawing went slower, and Mal found herself staring for far longer than she normally would have if she were just looking at Evie for reference. Not helping were certain, sudden thoughts about what other poses she might have her doing next.

Still, she finished it in decent enough time, and the result was still good. Evie smiled as Mal showed it off.

Then: “Racier?”

Mal smirked. “Third time's the charm. Bring it on.”

Evie went back to sitting on the chaise lounge. Mal was about to ask her how that was supposed to be racy, before she pulled her sweater up, while Mal's jaw fell down. It came back up to bite her upper as Evie pulled her sweater over her head, gracefully crossing her arms before she let it hang over the back of the seat. She took a few moments fixing her hair—though Mal thought that she _really_ didn't need to, because the “disheveled, messy” look suited her just fine.

Then again, it was probably more of a question of what looks were just good on Evie and what were stunning.

Evie smiled as she put her hands on her lap and pushed her chest out, doing a rather fine job of showing off how well-fit her navy blue bra was on her bust.

Mal gulped, her hands started to tremble. _“Warning, levels of gayness rising...”_ She thought to herself.

“Too much…?” Evie purred.

“I can handle a lot more...” Mal replied.

“Want me to get even racier, then?” Evie countered with a mischievous look in her eyes.

Mal stared at her for a few moments before she picked up her pencil and started drawing once more.

The shaking was back, though not quite as powerful as they were that fateful first session. Still, lines ended up jagged, curves took detours, and shapes turned askew to entirely new, amorphous blobs altogether. But, it was nothing she couldn't handle with steadying her drawing hand, and some rather generous use of her erasers.

The finished sketch's quality dropped drastically from all the mistakes that were made and erased, and it was a serious step down from the quality of the first two, but Evie was still pleased to see it. “At least it still looks like me.” She hummed.

Mal could tell it was a joke, but it was a joke with a silo's worth of truth in it.

“Want me to turn it down a notch?” Evie asked.

“No. Keep ratcheting it up,” Mal said, the effect ruined by the way her voice suddenly got weak near the end.

Evie grinned and stepped off the couch. She turned around, and with flagrant, completely unnecessary flair and more time than she actually needed, she undid her pants and slid them down, bending over at the waist to let the fabric run over the curve of her rear.

Mal bit her lip again, a lot harder this time. _“Warning: levels of gay rising to critical levels.”_ She thought to herself. She saw the cotton panties that kept Evie decent, in the loosest sense of the word, and chewed on her lip even harder.

Evie casually stepped out of her pants and left them on the floor—not that Mal would have noticed, with how focused she was with taking in her smooth, toned, and sculpted legs, especially her thighs and the flesh her panties left exposed. She climbed back on the chaise lounge, her hands casually holding the back of the chair, her legs spread apart just so as she knelt on the cushion, with her rear jutted out at the right angle to accentuate its curve.

Evie casually threw a smile over her shoulder. “More…?” She purred.

“Yes.” Mal squeaked.

Evie settled her back against the arm of the chaise lounge, her feet resting on the cushion and her knees bent up. She brushed her long, curly locks over her chest, before she reached behind her.

She grinned mischievously as her bra straps came falling loose beside her, her hands flying back to her chest to catch her bra and keep herself decent. She casually pulled it over to the side and left it to hang over the edge of the chaise lounge alongside her sweater.

Then, she brushed her hair back over her shoulders, nothing hiding her perfect, perky pair of breasts.

“ _Alert: you are_ way _too fucking gay for this.”_ Mal thought as the violent hand-trembling returned with a vengeance.

“Nervous?” Evie asked.

“Yes.” Mal thought, though _“Actually, just horny as hell.”_ was more accurate.

“You really shouldn't be,” Evie replied coolly. “Nudity is natural; nothing to be ashamed or worried about. Besides, it's not like it isn't just the two of us here, right?”

“Easy for you to say,” Mal grumbled. “You're already used to seeing all _that_ when you dress up every morning.”

Evie laughed. “You'd be surprised. Sometimes, I see myself in the mirror after a shower and turn myself on.”

Mal tried very hard the very easy to imagine the implications of that. “Point still stands.”

“Want some help?”

“What, with drawing? You an artist too? Because that'd be pretty cool.”

“ _And also make you even more stupidly hot,”_ she thought.

“No, though I do have _other_ skills.” Evie winked. “What I meant to say was: do you want some help being more relaxed when you see me naked?”

There was an opportunity for a lame joke in there somewhere, but Mal decided not to take it. “Sure, what'd you have in mind?” She asked as she put her pencil back in its cup.

Evie slipped to a more comfortable position sitting on the chaise lounge before she patted the empty spot beside her. “Come sit with me.” She said.

Mal blushed. “And that's supposed to help how…?”

“It'll let you stop thinking of me like an untouchable sex goddess instead of the mortal, touchable human being I am. Now come on, sit!” Evie smiled like she was beckoning a puppy over. Well maybe not exactly a 'puppy,' per se, but she was definitely calling Mal over.

Mal hesitated and stayed in her chair.

“I promise we won't do anything other than talk.” Evie continued. Then, her eyes added, “Unless you want to do more than that, which I am _so_ down for.”

Mal glared at her, her eyes replying, “Are we trying to calm me down or kill from from all the unresolved sexual tension?”

Evie just kept on smiling and patted the empty space next to her once more.

Mal sighed, and got up. Instead of sitting beside Evie, however, she sat on the edge of the chaise lounge, her back to her, and her arms crossed, if only because she didn't know what else to do with them and she was rather worried about what they'd if left free.

If Evie had a problem with it, she didn't say.

“So, how'd you get started with drawing, anyway?” Evie asked.

“I just had a talent for it, I guess. I drew some pictures of things and a portrait of my mom; she said they were all crap and that I should really consider a more 'realistic' and 'practical' career like law, medicine, or business like she did, but unlike most kids, I just took it as inspiration to keep on going.

“It kind of helped that in my teen years I just stopped trying to impress her and proceeded to do almost everything within my power to piss her off. How did _you_ get into nude modeling?”

“Same reason as you: rebellion.” Evie replied calmly. “My mother was grooming me to be the perfect princess and eventual trophy wife of some powerful figure or extremely rich man since day one, taught me all the manners from the books along with all the many unwritten rules of the Upper Class, such as how you should never put too much trust in your 'friends' because they might be plotting to stab you in the back while they smile to your face. She also taught me how to cook, clean, and sew, plus introduced me to the magical, fascinating world of cosmetology with a minor in chemistry, too, in case my hypothetical future husband wanted me as a pretty face with a college degree.

“At first, I went along with it like the good girl I was, but eventually, I discovered feminism, that there's more to life than just marrying into the life of luxury and prestige, and that I am _very_ much gay, gay, _gay,_ with some purely sexual exceptions. The nude modeling is just how I'll eventually get enough money to break away—and besides, I spent all my life making and keeping myself hotter than hell, might as well use it to my advantage, right?”

Mal stopped. A long silence fell between them.

“… Your mother was a real award winning parent too, huh?”

Evie nodded. “Mhmm.”

Mal laughed, if only a little. “Jesus...” She mumbled with a shake of her head.

Evie smiled. “Didn't expect the confident sex goddess to come from such a shitty childhood?” She asked playfully.

“Nah, just… is it wrong that I think it's funny that we just told each other that like we were asking each other what movies we watched recently?”

“I don't think so; in fact, I'd say it shows just how much we've moved on from our pasts. Still not completely broken away from her, but then again, no one ever really is, are they?”

Mal nodded. “True.”

“I'm still naked here, by the way.”

Mal paused.

“Want to go look at me and see if that helped?”

Mal slowly shifted about in her seat until she was sitting on the side of the couch. She looked over at Evie, who was still sitting naked but for her panties. Her heart started pounding again along, and her hands were trembling once more, but the effect wasn't quite so severe as earlier.

“Any other intensely personal questions you want to ask me?” Evie asked. “I'm assuming we've established that we can talk about all the horrible, traumatic details about our lives like it was the weather.”

“Have you ever done porn?” Mal blurted.

Evie laughed. “I was a cam girl. I loved the attention, and I earned myself a pretty loyal fanbase with a lot of disposal income on hand, but I had to retire after less than a year.”

“What happened?”

“Too many random guys sending me long, detailed e-mails about how much they love me and describing in _excruciating_ , step-by-step detail what exactly they wanted to do to me, and what they wanted me to do to them.”

“Seriously?”

“This one guy even went so far as to provide reference pictures to the dominatrix outfit he envisioned me in, where I could buy it for a reasonable price and get a discount on shipping, along with references to a BDSM site about what exactly puppy play is, in case I wanted a more technical explanation.”

Mal blinked. “… I can't decide if I should be disgusted or amused.”

“Do what I do: be completely grossed out then laugh at it as a coping mechanism.” Evie replied cheerfully “Seriously, though, it wasn't the things they were saying that got me to quit so much as how much emotion they poured into it; it just got so sad, some of the details about their lives you could figure out. Some even went so far to say as how I was one of the few good things in their lives...”

“To be fair, some of those guys probably had a _lot_ of other issues than being way too obsessed with a cam girl.”

“And all the other porn I assume they were watching couldn't have helped. Which I'm assuming is something you've done a _lot_ of, too?” Evie asked as she gave Mal a knowing look.

Mal blushed and looked down. “Yeah...” She mumbled.

Evie nodded. “Figured. You have all the signs: easily stimulated and severely aroused, and generally just socially awkward from all the lack of interaction with real people.”

“When did this turn into an intervention about my porn habit?” Mal asked, annoyed.

“Since I can _clearly_ see that it's almost completely ruining your chance at a normal, healthy relationship, and consequently, my chances of having a normal, healthy relationship with you—you are _very_ lucky I think you're cute and interesting.”

Mal blinked, opened her mouth, but found herself at a loss for words. “… Are you seriously that into me?”

Evie smiled at her. “Yes. There's just something about you that draws me to you—plus the fact that I get really turned on by the way I get _you_ really turned on.” The smile turned into a grin.

Mal blushed, and would have scooted away from Evie if she hadn't caught herself and realized that she'd just fall off the edge and onto her floor. She already humiliated herself by grabbing onto the edge and pulling herself back onto solid cushion, she didn't need to add _that._

“You want to get back to helping you get used to seeing me naked?” Evie asked.

“… I guess? What's next?”

“Well, now that you're not getting completely fired up just by seeing me naked...” Evie scooted over, closing the distance between them. “… Let's see how you react when I'm close to you and naked.”

Mal gulped, her cheeks turning red once more, as she became very, very, _very_ aware of just how close Evie was—enough for her to feel a distinct, noticeable tingle on her skin, from her body heat or her hormones going crazy on her.

Evie laughed. “I'm not even doing anything yet!” She said, amused.

“Not true!” Mal shot back. “You're being stupidly hot at me!”

Evie starred at her, confused.

“I get sarcastic and mean and when I'm threatened or nervous and it turns dumb when I'm horny, alright?!” Mal yelled, her cheeks turning even redder as the shakes spread to the rest of her body.

Evie smirked, but scooted back a fair distance. “Okay, I think it's safe to say that's a bit too much of a next step for you...” Mal shot her a dirty look. “Hmm, how about we try getting _you_ naked this time?”

Mal blinked. Then, she started violently shaking her head. “No. No, nope, nada, nein, however the fuck you say 'No' in other languages!”

Evie smiled warmly. “Nudity--”

“--Is perfectly natural, I get that, but there is absolutely no way you are getting me naked!” Mal finished for her before she grabbed the edge of her shirt and pulled them down, covering up the band of her sweatpants.

Evie wasn't discouraged. “I'm sorry, was I wrong in assuming you've been desperately wanting to get naked with me then do all sorts of naughty things together?” She half-joked.

Mal blushed and looked away. “No, you were right, but not now!”

“Is there a problem...?” Evie asked. “You have my word that I get checked regularly and am very much clean, medically speaking. Not to mention well-groomed, if you catch my drift.”

Mal did, and now couldn't get the image out of her head. “It's not that.”

“Is it because you don't do casual sex without getting to know the person better first, or need an emotional attachment first? I _have_ been planning on taking you out to dinner and getting to know you better the old-fashioned way.”

“No, no, and do you always discuss romantic plans while you're in your underwear?”

Evie shrugged. “I've asked, and been asked out in weirder circumstances. Look, Mal, unless you've got something legitimately, medically nasty going on underneath those clothes, I'll be completely, _absolutely_ fine and non-judgmental with whatever I'll see.” Evie smiled. “Trust me, I've been places and seen a _lot_ of things, good _and_ bad.”

Mal sucked in a breath and sighed. “Promise you won't laugh?” She asked.

Evie raised her hand. “I promise.”

Mal reluctantly got up off the chaise lounge, turned to face Evie, and pulled down her sweatpants to her thighs.

Evie sniggered.

Mal scowled. “You laughed.” She said flatly.

“Well you can't have expected me to be ready for _that,_ could you?” Evie replied, barely keeping herself from laughing.

Mal agreed, but still, “You promised!”

“Maybe warn me next time?” Evie said playfully. “Now come on, turn around, I want to see the other side!”

Mal sighed again, and obeyed, turning around slowly in place. She really rather regretted wearing her most comfortable pair of panties that day—cotton, with baby dragons printed all over the fabric—but to be fair, she couldn't have expected that she'd be pulling down her pants and showing them off to Evie.

“Aww, the dragons are on the back, too! That's so _cute!_ Where'd you get these?”

“Ex-boyfriend,” Mal replied flatly. “I never bothered to ask what or where the silly print underwear store was.”

“Shame.” Evie said.

Mal rolled her eyes and sat back down on the chaise lounge with her pants down at her thighs and her, arms crossed once more.

“Feeling any better now?” Evie asked.

“If by 'better,' you mean humiliated, horribly confused, and wondering where this is going, and if you're legitimately trying to help me or just fucking with me for shits and giggles, then yes! I _do_ feel better now!”

Mal groaned. “This whole thing feels like a terrible porno without the hot sex to make up for it...” She grumbled as she closed her eyes.

“Well maybe we should fix that...” Evie purred.

Before Mal could say anything, Evie crawled over and settled down on her lap, her back straight and arched up just so to show off her bare chest and those perfect perky tits of hers.

Mal stared, at a loss for words. Evie just grinned.

“Are you trying to get me to have sex with you, or are you still helping me get comfortable with seeing you naked?” Mal asked Evie sat almost entirely naked on her thigh, nothing but a pair of cotton panties between her skin and hers.

Evie smiled. “Both, actually! Feel free to tell me to stop whenever you want to...” She purred as she reached for the edge of Mal's sweatshirt, her fingers hovering over them but not gripping just yet.

Now back to the present, Mal frowned and said, “Stop.”

True to her word, Evie pulled her hands back and climbed off to the side. “Mind if I ask why?” She said as she sat back down

“You're probably expecting to get some hot, awesome lesbian sex where I finally put all my years of watching porn to practical use, but _trust me_ , all you're going to get is an awkward, fumbling newbie who's probably going to cum five seconds in and turn you _off_ once I try to do so much as finger you.”

Evie laughed. “Is it _really_ that hard to imagine that _maybe_ I want to have sex with you simply because I want to have sex with you?”

Mal didn't answer.

“It doesn't always have to be about orgasms or fantastic sex, you know. They're great, but sometimes, all I want to do is have fun and be with someone intimately.

“Real sex? It's usually messy, awkward, and sometimes just plain horrifying; you mess up, you do something you thought would be hot but turn the other _completely_ off, and sometimes, you just do something so mood breaking you have to laugh... or apologize, then put your clothes back on while avoiding eye contact.

“And you know what? That's exactly what makes it so good.” She paused. “Besides, porn sex is about the _worst_ thing you can model real sex after, trust me.”

Mal looked down. “Don't think I'm ready for it as you are just yet, though.”

“That's fine, I like you for _way_ more than just that. You want to get back to drawing or get started on those Oreos?” Evie smiled.

“Well, since we've already firmly established without a doubt that I am painfully socially awkward lesbian who gets turned on _way_ too easily the moment you so much as flash some underboob… Oreos.” Mal got up. “I'll get the glasses and the milk.”

“And I'll get the box!” Evie said as she got up.

Mal stared at her as she sauntered off, still just in her panties. “Wait, you're not putting your clothes back on?”

Evie looked back and smiled. “Should I?”

“No.”


End file.
